The King's Guard
by a-mild-looking-sky
Summary: After Hazel is wounded at Nuthanger Farm, Bigwig looks after him.
**The King's Guard**

 **A/N: So today I finished reading Watership Down and it was amazing - one of the best things I've ever read. I have never ever cried so much over a book! I had to write some fanfic for it. This little story focuses on Bigwig and Hazel's friendship, which was one of my favourite things about the book (and the movie which is also brilliant), and is set just after Hazel is shot at Nurthanger farm and returns to the bottom of the down. It can either be read as Bigwig/Hazel in a romantic or friendly way, I intended for it to be somewhere in the middle.**

The down was silent. Overhead, the blue sky had blackened and clouds were gathering darkly. Rain was coming. Already, Bigwig could feel the heaviness pressing down upon him. It enshrouded everything - the promise of a storm lurking on the horizon. Or maybe that was the thought of what waited for him at the bottom of the hill.

Hurriedly, he made his way down. The journey seemed to last forever; longer than any venture they had yet undertaken. With every leap, he thought of Blackberry's words: Hazel's alive. Hazel's alive. He couldn't understand it. The men had shot him. No rabbit could survive that - Lord Frith himself surely had never heard of such a thing. But then... When had any part of their journey made sense?

Bigwig tried not to dwell on it. Once he saw Hazel, his heart would be settled.

Fiver met him at the mouth of the ditch. The little thing looked exhausted, one of his ears drooping over his eyes. "Where is he?" Bigwig asked.

"Down there," Fiver said, glancing down the short slope into the thick grass. "It's nothing like the Honeycomb, but it'll do. He cannot move any further."

"How is he?"

"I think he's going to be alright. It was tough coming back from the farm, but we made it."

"How in Frith's name did you know he was still alive?"

Fiver began to answer, but Bigwig interrupted him. "No, you don't have to tell me. I know you well enough now. Let's just be glad you found him when you did."

Slowly, Bigwig descended into the ditch. He moved carefully, not wanting to disturb or frighten Hazel. He had been in a few scrapes in his life but nothing like what his Chief Rabbit had been through. As brave as Hazel was, Bigwig could only imagine what horrible things he must be feeling.

He saw him through the undergrowth, curled up morosely with his head bowed to the ground. The smell of dried blood filled the air. It unsettled Bigwig even more than he was already. He hated the idea of Hazel struggling lamely through the meadows, dragging along this pungent scent. Elil could have easily sprung upon him and finished the job the man had started.

He approached his friend quietly. Hazel's eyes shifted in the gloom, searching for him. His senses must have been upset by the incident. "Who's there?" he asked, his voice but a whisper. "Is that you, Fiver?"

"It's me - Bigwig."

"Bigwig? What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?"

Bigwig hopped over. Hazel remained, doleful and helpless, upon the cold floor. His back leg was stretched out behind him in an attempt to avoid aggravating the wound. Bigwig grew angry then pitiful at the sight of it - then pleased it had not been any worse. Dried blood clung to the matted fur, surrounding a ragged hole in the limb. Tiny tremors ran through Hazel with every breath.

"Is it troubling you too badly?" Bigwig asked.

"How is Holly's party? Have they returned yet from Efrafa?"

The question took Bigwig by surprise. He thought about telling Hazel of the Efrafa delegation's lonely return and their failure to bring back any does, but decided against it. Hazel had enough problems. "Never mind that," he insisted. "Wait until you're back at the Honeycomb."

"I can't get up there, Thlayli," Hazel moaned mournfully. "Not today, maybe not even tomorrow. It is too far."

"Well, of course you can't. You're staying right here and resting. And if it comes to it, I shall carry you up the hill."

Despite his pain, that seemed to amuse Hazel. "That would be a sight."

"You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you."

"You should." Satisfied that Hazel was feeling more comfortable, Bigwig settled down beside him. Now he knew that his Chief Rabbit truly was alive and breathing, the weight had begun to lift from his shoulders. He allowed himself to relax a little. "Frithrah," he muttered. "You gave me such a fright, Hazel. I tell you, when you're better, you're getting a cuff around the ears."

"It was a daring raid," Hazel conceded. "But it had to be done."

"I know. But to think that you almost -" Bigwig stopped. "Never mind. It's over now. And it will be a story worth of El-ahrairah: 'Hazel-Rah and the stolen does' or 'the day Hazel-Rah defied the man's gun'. I'm sure Dandelion could make a great tale of it."

Hazel made a small, tired noise, maybe of approval or of thanks. "And what of you, Thlayli?" he asked quietly. "What became of that cat at the farm? Surely that is another story for Dandelion."

"I was told to defend our rabbits. So I did."

"You did well." Hazel's voice was fading as much-needed sleep began to claim him. He settled down, the tension gradually draining from his overworked body. Thinking he had slipped into dreams, Bigwig nuzzled his ears gently.

"Not as well as you, Hazel," he said. "One day, all rabbits will know of your exploits."

"Our." The word was spoken as a small breath, but with the utmost affection. Bigwig paused as Hazel stirred lightly and rested his head against his side.

"Your," he insisted.

"Our." Hazel sighed, floating away again. "What would I do without you, Thlayli? What would I do without you?"

Bigwig did not leave him. All throughout the night, he remained next to his brave Chief Rabbit, keeping him warm and safe. Fiver soon joined them and pressed his little, thin form to Hazel's other flank. Between them, he slept soundly. When the sky finally opened and the rain started to pour upon them, Fiver suggested moving him to better shelter. But Bigwig refused to disturb him. Instead, he lay his head upon Hazel's and let the storm rage down on him rather than his dear friend. Fiver looked at him fondly.

Together, they had rescued Hazel. Fiver had found him in the drain and brought him back. He had saved his body. And here, in this ditch, Bigwig had saved his heart, breathing hope into it. He was the companion Hazel needed. His protector. His most loyal guardian.

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 **Hope you liked it! Feedback always appreciated! :)**


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